


Full Circle

by SherlockWolf



Series: SherlockWolf's Alternate S13 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s13e16 Scoobynatural, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Castiel, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 17:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: After the Scooby Doo shenanigans, Castiel helps Dean set up yet another TV.(Can be read as one shot, but I recommend reading at least the first part of the series)





	Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so Scoobynatural not only saved my AU but was THE GREATEST. I loved it so much. 
> 
> As usual, if there's any grammar/spelling/weirdness let me know! Enjoy! <3

    “What happened to one day?”

    Would Castiel ever escape Dean’s interrogations? It seemed unfair, particularly since Castiel felt he was most justified to be the interrogator. Dean had explicitly exhibited interest in Daphne, Fred, _and_ there was that comment Fred had made about Dean touching someone’s—was it the ghost’s?—thigh…

    Needless to say, Castiel was not pleased with Dean. He could thus be forgiven for his sour attitude as he helped Dean haul the newest TV into the DeanCave. It had been kind of the shopkeeper to give them a second one. Perhaps the red ascot that was still around Dean’s neck had touched the old man’s sympathies.

    “I had to bargain with a tribe of djinn to get the fruit.” Castiel argued as they maneuvered the TV down yet another flight of stairs. Why Dean had chosen a room in the basement for this project, Castiel would never understand.

    Dean laughed. “I remember you texting about that. What’d you end up giving them?”

    “Marriage.” Castiel said, making sure his tone was as even and unaffected as possible to catch Dean off guard.

    He felt victorious when he heard Dean choke on air.

    “ _What?_ ” Dean coughed out.

    “The Queen required that I marry her in exchange for the fruit. I don’t think it was actually sanctioned, since—.”

    “Dude.” Dean huffed out in annoyance, likely at Castiel’s rambling, as they curved through the doorframe of the DeanCave.

    It was a good thing Castiel had decided to abandon his coat and jacket upstairs, as they would’ve caught on the doorframe as the angel was shoved against it.

    Once the TV was set on the stand without too much bruising on Castiel’s end, Dean stood back to admire it, holding out his hands to see if the machine was centered to his liking.

    “They didn’t force you, did they? Like, suck out your life or anything until you gave in?” Dean asked once he was satisfied, turning to Castiel and eyeing him for any signs of bodily harm.

    “No, it wasn’t like that.” Castiel sighed.

    Castiel was thankful that he hadn’t been made prisoner by the djinn. Who knows what would have happened if he had. Shaggy and Scooby might not have been saved. Dean might have been angry about more than simple tardiness. Though, Castiel may not have had to witness the man make moves on an already-invested woman, and that would have been nice for multiple reasons.

    “Good. We needed you in Scooby-land.” Dean said, flopping back in one of his matching recliners and snatching up a TV remote from the table in between.

    Castiel took the seat next to him and fiddled with the bar on the side until he had his feet propped up in the air. The angel half-paid attention while Dean channel-surfed. He’d expected more of a reaction from Dean. Some kind of jealousy-fueled, _Hey, no one can marry you, not anymore!_ Or even a simple, _Cas, why’d you agree? We could’ve found another way._ Anything to indicate that the idea of Castiel belonging to someone else—even if on uncertain grounds—bothered him. But no. Castiel received nothing but indifference and evidence that Dean preferred anyone over him.

    He’d been hoping things would change this time. Dean had said the words Castiel had been aching to hear, but it seemed that he’d been fooling himself yet again. Maybe Dean did love him, but not in the way Castiel thought. Maybe he was everything to Dean. Everything except the one thing Castiel wanted to be.

    If only Dean would douse his doubts rather than set them ablaze.

    “Earth to Cas. Anybody home?” Dean’s voice cut through the angel’s sour thoughts.

    “Hmm?” Castiel turned his eyes from the TV to Dean, to find that the man was leaning on the arm of his chair toward the angel.

    “I asked if you wanted a beer.” Dean said.

    “No, thank you.”

    If Dean went up to the kitchen and gave Castiel a moment to breathe, perhaps the angel could figure out how to conduct himself for the rest of the evening rather than continuing to fall into these ruts of frustration with Dean.

    He had no such luck. Dean stood and went behind the counter of the bar. The sound of a mini-bar opening and closing met Castiel’s ears, then Dean reappeared with a single beer in hand. Back in his chair, Dean picked up a dolphin-shaped cap-opener and popped open his drink. Castiel took the dolphin from his hand and examined it while Dean drank and reabsorbed himself into whatever TV program he’d landed on. Castiel picked up many mentions of a doctor.

    “Have you ever met a dolphin?” Castiel asked absently, remembering the encounters he’d had with the silly creatures.

    “Nah, I’ve only seen the ocean a handful of times.”

    “They have complex lives.” Castiel continued, deciding to tell Dean what was bothering him.

    Dean met his gaze for a moment, then did something with the remote so that the TV stopped moving and making noise. Castiel set the dolphin on the small table between the chairs.

    “They think and feel much like humans, but even more. And they can sort of communicate through emotions, like a…sixth sense.”

    Dean grinned. “Sounds like my life would be _easier_ as a dolphin.”

    “I can’t disagree.” Castiel said sarcastically.

    Dean had fallen into his trap so easily.

    “No monsters, no hunting, no money problems, just swimming around all day, playing and fucking and eating. Not complex at all.” Dean picked at a loose string on the arm of his chair as he mused.

    “Without a care in the world.” Castiel murmured.

    “Nuh-uh, if dolphins are more in touch with their emotions, then I’d have a lot _more_ cares in the world.” Dean countered, unexpectedly yet perfectly.

    “Would I be on that list of cares?” Castiel asked, his heart thumping in his chest with the brevity of his question.

    If he could just hear it again…

    Dean stared at him for a moment, the smile slipping from his face. “Cas, you already are. We don’t need flippers for that.”

    “Are you sure?” Castiel accused, allowing the bitterness of the day to seep into his words.

    Dean shifted in his seat and resumed playing with the loose thread. Castiel stood, unable to remain still while waiting for Dean to shatter his hopes—his heart—once again. He caught sight of a small, turquoise van sitting on the shelf of Dean’s records. He walked over to it, feeling Dean’s eyes on his back as he picked up the mini _Mystery Machine_. He spun the wheels on their flimsy metal axes, imagining the sound was that of Dean’s thought processes. How would Dean dismiss him this time? Or would Castiel be lucky, as he’d been a few days ago…

    He longed for Dean’s touch.

    There was a rustle of fabric as Dean moved across the room. The heat of the man’s body radiated through Castiel’s shirt when he came to a halt beside the angel. In his peripheral, Castiel watched Dean lean against the corner, propping a leg up for balance as he watched the angel play with the car.

    “I didn’t realize you’d convinced yourself.” Dean’s voice was grave, and…hurt?

    “Of what?” Castiel asked, not following.

    He felt more than heard Dean take a deep breath, then a hand around the wrist pulled him around so that he was facing the man. Castiel fumbled with the car, trying not to drop it as he readjusted his posture to properly face Dean, who waited to speak until Castiel gave in and looked up at him.

    “That I didn’t need you.” Dean said, giving Castiel a kicked-puppy look.

    Castiel made sure to execute the full force of his glare. He wasn’t going to play sympathy games tonight.

    “Do you, Dean? The way you need Daphne? _Or_ the way you need Sam?” He challenged.

    Dean blanched. “Are you jealous of a fictional character?”

    “Who you got to _meet_.” Castiel emphasized, ignoring that Dean hadn’t directly answered his question.

    Was that what he was feeling? Jealousy? Funny how a simple human word could summarize such an awful experience of frustration and anger.

    “Yeah, in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wasn’t gonna pass that up.”

    They glared at each other for a moment before Dean’s smile reappeared.

    “You didn’t deny it.”

    “What?”

    “You’re _jealous_!” Dean’s smile widened.

    “Well—.”

    “And I thought I was bent out of shape, with that bullshit about you getting married to some monster.”

    “That bothered you?” Castiel asked, not wasting the effort to hide the relief from his face and voice.

    “Duh. Can’t have my angel snatched up by some life-sucking blue chick.”

    _My angel._ The words rung in Castiel’s ears like a song. He felt his heart lift.

    “We’ve gotta get better at this.” Dean said, finally letting his hand fall from Castiel’s wrist.

    The angel immediately missed the contact, as he always did.

    “Yes, we do.” Castiel agreed, quiet and miserable.

    He wasn’t sure how they could improve, if Dean was still interested in making moves on women, or men, or whomever, then they would remain stagnant. Castiel would do his part and pretend that nothing had changed between them, that these stolen moments never happened. The angel wasn’t at all sure that he could persuade Dean to be monogamous with him. Dean had committed to Lisa, but that was an altogether different situation. Why would Dean commit himself in any way to Castiel, when all Castiel brought to the man was pain?

    “I have an idea.” Dean said, reaching out and taking the toy car from Castiel.

    He placed the toy back on the shelf, then took Castiel’s hands in his. Dean straightened up and pulled Castiel close until they were nose to nose, chest to chest. Like the other night, when Castiel got to indulge in one of Dean’s rare embraces. The angel could hardly feel his heart it was beating so fast, thrilled by its proximity to another drumming heart. His stomach knotted, and his head swirled with the scent of home as Dean tipped his head and—.

    Kissed him.

    Dean was kissing him.

    Castiel melted. He felt his body—not just his vessel, but his _grace_ —shudder with utter satisfaction.

    Then he was pulling back, all too quickly. Castiel reached out, but his hands were caught in Dean’s, so he could do nothing as the man he loved exited his space.

    “Why don’t we start with that?” Dean asked, grip still firm on Castiel’s hands.

    It was as though the man knew that if he let go, the beast he’d created would be uncaged.

    Castiel closed his eyes, lips tingling and body screaming with desire. He didn’t dare speak—oh, how he was _ruined_ for this man.

    “Cas?” Dean asked, tugging on the angel’s hands.

    Castiel could be strong for Dean. He could fight back everything he felt for Dean until Dean was ready for it. The angel called himself a soldier, so he would be one. He would lock this all away and let it trickle out as needed.

    He’d been so close to letting it all free.

    “Am I witnessing an angelic freak-out?” Dean’s voice was quiet and teasing.

    Wait. Castiel was the one freaking out? Was Dean…not?

    Castiel opened his eyes to find that Dean had barely moved more than a few inches. To find that Dean was still casting glances down to his lips. To find that Dean’s eyes—no, his _soul_ —was expressing that same desire Castiel felt.

    “Maybe.” Castiel admitted, unable to control the smile as he realized what was going on.

    Dean wanted him. There was no need to lock anything away, not anymore. Castiel could let his walls, old and cracked, crumble.

    Dean laughed. “Are you ever gonna believe me?”

    “I don’t know…you might have to kiss me again.”

    Dean released Castiel’s hands in favor of weaving his fingers through the angel’s hair. Castiel took his opportunity. With one hand, he gathered up both tails of the ascot. With the other, he gripped Dean’s shoulder and pushed him back against the wall, so he could press up against the man. Dean grunted from the force of the wall against his back, but didn’t make any move to stop Castiel’s enthusiasm. In fact, he only responded in kind, grinding his hips ever so slightly against Castiel’s.

    They were interrupted shortly after by Sam’s voice calling down the stairs that he’d finally found some information on the Seal of Solomon. It was a blessing that Sam hadn’t walked down those stairs, not for Sam or Castiel’s sakes, but for Dean’s.

    Castiel released Dean, whose hands fell to the angel’s hips while he regained his breath. A contented smile fell upon the man’s lips. Castiel was sure he was expressing the same.

    “What say, when all this is over, you and me move some furniture around?” Castiel asked, recalling the words of a past lover.

    Dean smirked. “Who said we had to wait?”

    “Sam.” Castiel said with all seriousness, but when Dean cracked up, the angel couldn’t stop his own giggles.


End file.
